


i've bean in love with you

by kishere



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Dan Howell Needs A Hug, M/M, New Yorker!Phil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:07:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25617094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kishere/pseuds/kishere
Summary: Dan, a recent college graduate, directionless in what he is going to do outside of school. However, he keeps orbiting back to Lester's Tea and Coffee with their great barista: Phil. When Dan is given two months to find somewhere new to live, will he take a chance on a new job definitely outside his field?
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 7
Kudos: 21
Collections: Phandom Reverse Bang 2020





	i've bean in love with you

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to both [indistinct-echo](https://indistinct-echo.tumblr.com) and [candanandphilnot](https://candanandphilnot.tumblr.com) for being apart of this team, all the support, and the sheer amount of hand-holding that went into this. I appreciate it more than you can possibly know. please check out cal's BEAUTIFUL moodboard for this fic [here](https://candanandphilnot.tumblr.com/post/625014304576585728/for-the-phandomreversebang-this-is-paired-with).

Dan felt defeated as he walked out of Professor Parker’s office, his shoulders finally slumping as he closed the door behind him. He should be used to her harsh criticism, but they somehow hurt even more now that he was no longer a student. He was thankful she had taken time out of her schedule to meet with him, to critique some of the art he had created in the past few months, but that didn’t stop him from feeling disappointed that she didn’t seem impressed or excited about any of it. 

_ Bland. Boring. Commercial. Directionless. _

What a great way to describe Dan Howell, he thought bitterly. Guess art really does reflect the artist. 

He pressed his head against the wall next to the wooden door and let out a deep breath. After a moment, he pulled away and straightened up, adjusting his ratty, well-loved galaxy backpack over his shoulder. As he walked through the hallways of Tisch, he wished for a second that he were still a student and not desperately trying to get his art into a gallery. 

He should have listened to his parents when they said he needed to be anything but a visual arts major. So what if he had been so proud and elated three months ago when he graduated? Now, he just wanted to go back in time and pick something more lucrative than photographing the occasional wedding that left him barely enough money after rent, even with his parents’ help. 

Dan let out another sigh as he walked into the autumn heat, already sweating. One would think four years was enough time to acclimate to the weather, but apparently growing up on a rainy island trumped environmental evolution, Dan thought with an eye roll. He hitched his backpack up his shoulder again and headed to his favorite coffeehouse in the city: Lester’s Tea and Coffee. 

They had a couple locations around the city, but Dan would argue that the East Village location had the best service. In all honesty, Dan hadn’t been to any of the other locations (why would he when this one was only a ten minute walk away), but he could guarantee that none of the other locations had a  _ Phil _ . 

Phil was the best barista Dan had encountered, including that one Starbucks barista that looked vaguely like Evan Peters. Phil had kept Dan so well caffeinated his last year of university that he felt guilty he hadn’t visited much since graduating. Back in college, when Dan was low on money, Phil would give him refills of black coffee for the cost of conversation while Dan sat at the bar next to the coffee machines. Other times, Phil would request a drawing which Dan would sketch in between working on assignments.

Dan stood before the storefront for Lester’s. It was cute, with a cream awning with plants hanging in front of the big picture window. There were two empty tables chained to the building, probably vacant due to the humid heat. Dan peeked through the window and saw Phil working the till. He was easy to spot, towering over the other employees and most of the customers, with jet black hair and pale skin that would make a vampire wince. Phil looked up after a moment, and Dan raised a hand in acknowledgement. Phil jerked his head to the left, in the direction of the door, and Dan felt himself relax for the first time since Professor Parker had critiqued his work. 

Dan walked inside, getting into the small queue in front of the counter. He pulled out his phone and checked his notifications. There were a few messages from his roommate, Natalie, that he opened immediately. 

**[Nat]:** _ hey, can we talk when you get home?  _

**[Nat]:** _ kind of important gorg _

Dan responded with a simple ‘ _ k : ) _ ’ before looking around. 

The room had white painted brick walls, littered with artwork, making it seem much more spacious. Some of the artwork had changed since Dan had been here last, which wasn’t unusual; sometimes artists were able to display their pieces here, but Dan had heard around campus that the Lesters were kind of picky about what art went up. He had never grabbed a flyer stacked near the door or asked Phil about getting his own art on the walls for this reason. 

There was a large case to the right side of the till, usually full of baked goods, but this late in the morning, it looked a little grim. To the left of the till was a bar with high-backed chairs, where Dan usually sat when he came here. As Dan finally approached the counter, he noticed that one of his small doodles of Phil (with cat ears, whiskers, and a tail) holding a sign saying “tips pwease” was taped to the tip jar. It was one of his cringier drawings, but, if Phil liked it, that’s all that mattered. 

“Long time, no see. How ya doin’,” Phil asked, leaning across the counter, a sunny smile on his face. He didn’t wait for an answer before asking, “Can I get you a coffee, Dan?” Phil’s New York accent came out strong on the word coffee, but it wasn’t nearly as jarring as when Dan had first moved here. 

Maybe he could become a New Yorker yet, Dan thought wryly. “Yeah, coffee would be great. Large, black, dar-“

“-k as your soul, I know, I know,” Phil finished Dan’s sentence, looking around at his coworkers before leaning closer into Dan’s personal bubble. “Can you stay and chat today?”

Dan was about to say yes, when he recalled Natalie’s text message. He shook his head and gave Phil a sad smile. “I have to go home pretty quick after this. I’m sorry.”

Phil sighed with a shrug. “What can you do?” 

“Order a plain bagel, stay for five minutes, and leave a tip,” Dan offered, doing his best to look apologetic. 

“You don’t have to leave a tip,” Phil said automatically. “But make it ten minutes.” 

“Deal,” Dan said with a smile. 

“You want a spread on that bagel? Cream cheese, right?” Phil asked as he paused over the till. Dan nodded, and Phil entered the order into the till. “$5.72.”

Dan pulled out his wallet, inserted his card into the reader, and paid. He dumped whatever loose coins were in his wallet into the tip jar. 

“I don’t use them anyway,” Dan said over Phil’s protests. He leaned slightly across the counter so only Phil would hear him. “Besides, it’s the least I could do for last year.” 

Phil rolled his eyes and sighed. “Fine, but just this time. Your usual spot is open.” 

Dan walked over to the bar and hoisted himself up into the chair after hanging his backpack along the back. He leaned forward on the counter and watched Phil talk to other customers. Dan’s hand twitched, like muscle memory wanted him to sketch the way Phil smiled and gestured with his hands. Phil would have been great in freshman year when he worked on dynamic poses, Dan thought idly until a girl with dark brown hair in a long braid stood in front of him. She held a cup of coffee in a white mug and a bagel with a liberal smear of cream cheese on it. 

“Dan?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” he said, sitting up a bit more so she could hand him his breakfast. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said with a wink, causing Dan to tilt his head to the side in confusion. Had she poisoned the bagel? Dan looked down at the mug surprised to see a latte instead of plain black coffee. 

“Excuse me, Miss,” Dan called but the girl either couldn’t hear him or was ignoring him. He set the coffee aside and dug into the bagel. He was about to start on the second half of the bagel when Phil appeared in front of him. 

“You don’t like the coffee?” Phil asked, looking a little disappointed. He leaned forward, his tattooed arm on full display. 

Dan’s eyes traced the design until he found the triad tangled in a bundle of roses and smiled fondly. That’s how he and Phil started talking during Phil’s first week working there. Dan had tried to order a coffee but had trailed off at seeing all the color on Phil’s right arm, noticing the golden Tri-Force almost immediately in between the swords and roses. He asked about it because it was hard to believe someone with realistic swords and roses on their arm would also make room for the Tri-Force. Phil had been pleased and gave him his first free coffee that day. When his shift was over, he stopped by Dan at the bar, hopped up on a chair, and started to talk about the Legend of Zelda series. 

“Dan? I can get Becca to make you another one if you don’t like it,” Phil said, cutting into Dan’s reminiscing. 

“Hmm? Oh. No, I just felt bad because it was the wrong order,” Dan explained. “I ordered a black coffee, remember?”

“I remember. I just gave you an upgrade,” Phil said with a grin, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one else had appeared in line. “I got Becca to do the latte art since she’s been wanting to practice. Look.”

Dan looked at the latte art and saw the swirl pattern that he always saw on his friends’ Instagrams. Dan looked back at Phil. “How much do I owe you? For the upgrade.” 

“Nothing,” Phil said. “Becca wanted to practice, and you’re a victim of circumstance. Accept it.”

“You’re evil.” Dan laughed but reached for the latte anyway, taking a sip and hissing in pain at the hot temperature. “Super evil. An evil coffee temptress.”

It looked like Phil was going to say something but a customer appeared at the till, hitting the little bell there rather aggressively. Phil smiled apologetically at Dan and turned to help the woman at the counter. 

Dan pulled a pen out of his backpack and started to doodle himself holding a sign. He gave himself cat ears and a tail to match the one on the tip jar and wrote “thank you” in the little sign. He worked slowly, staying much later than his original ten-minute plan. Occasionally, Phil would stop by and talk with him for a minute or two, but, about an hour later, Dan stretched and set his pen behind his ear. He took the last sip of his coffee, now on the wrong side of lukewarm, and got up, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. 

He stopped near the till and caught Phil’s eye; he pointed at the counter and then waved, smiling when he got a wave in return. 

As Dan made his way to the nearest underground entrance, he thought again about how lucky the East Village location was to have Phil. He missed having an excuse to come over and see Phil as often as his guilty conscience wished he would. He hated feeling like he was taking advantage of people, and, though Phil waved it off, Dan couldn’t stop the niggling doubt in the back of his mind. Maybe he should create something for Phil that was better than his shitty doodles. 

As Dan scanned his MetroCard, he started thinking of what Natalie could possibly want. Sure, he may have left a few dishes in the sink last night, but that wasn’t something Natalie was normally fussed about, especially considering her own natural messiness and tendency towards clutter. This had to be something serious then, Dan thought, as he untangled his headphones from his pocket and plugged them into his phone. He stood on the platform and waited for the train, letting the music of FKA Twigs wash over him and cancel out the din. 

The ride home, itself, was boring. He used the thirty minutes to shut his eyes and try to relax, head leaned back against the wall of the car. His backpack dug uncomfortably into his back, making it impossible to entirely relax, but it was calming listening to his Spotify playlist instead of fixating on what Natalie wanted. It was a trick he had picked up from the mental health center at Tisch, and it had a thirty-five percent success rate; today was one of those lucky instances. As he got off the underground and onto a nearby bus, the music trick started to fail, especially when he eventually made it home and unlocked the door. 

“Hello,” Dan called into the flat as he toed off his shoes by the front door, making sure to yank his ear buds out so he could hear the response.

“We’re in the living room,” Natalie replied. Dan walked into the living room, his eyes drawn to the hideous, floral couch in the center of the room. He hated that monstrosity of a “conversation starter.” Dan looked up and saw Joann, Natalie’s girlfriend, instead of Natalie, causing him to jolt slightly. 

“Hey, Dan,” Joann said, smiling at Dan as she pushed some of her black hair back, making it so her face was more visible. 

“Hey,” Dan said, walking around the back of the couch to one of the matching chairs and sitting down in it. It was too small for his large frame so he turned sideways in it and let his legs hang over the armrest instead. 

Natalie was lounging across the couch, her head pillowed on Joann’s lap. “Hey Dan.”

“Nat,” Dan said, some suspicion creeping into his voice.

“Don’t call me that,” Natalie said, picking at a thumbnail. “I’m not a bug.”

“No, you’re just annoying like one,” Dan teased. 

“I went through all the trouble of picking out a name, the least you can do is use it,” Natalie said. 

“I only say Nat because plenty of girls named Natalie use the nickname Nat,” Dan said. “It’s real trendy.”

“It makes me sound like a surfer chick,” Natalie complained before putting on a bad Australian accent. “Hey Nat, catch those big waves? Wanna go throw some shrimp on the barbie?”

“I’m kind of into that,” Joann said, staring down at Natalie adoringly. 

“Really? That’s what does it for you,” Natalie asked, staring up at Joann. “You’re going to leave me for an Australian surfer someday.”

“Oh, yes,” Joann said, leaning down and giving Natalie’s nose a peck. “Can’t resist the accent from down under, if you know what I mean.” 

Dan wanted to retch at how sweet they were being but reminded himself this is what Natalie deserved, someone who cared about her and matched her flamboyant personality. In the entire time they had known each other, Natalie had never talked about any of her past flings  — men, women, or those in between  — the same way she talked about Joann during their year-long relationship. It was nice to see their relationship, have some hope that love was out there, but Dan also felt a bit left out sometimes. Not that he wanted to date either of them. However, sometimes they got so wrapped in each other, Dan didn’t get to hang out with his best friend.

“So, uh, what did you want to talk about?” Dan finally asked, cutting into Natalie and Joann’s joking banter before they got completely lost in each other. 

“Oh,” Natalie said, sitting up on the couch and turning to face Dan. She pushed her long blonde hair back and pulled up a tank top strap. “I have exciting news.”

“Oh?” Dan relaxed marginally. It couldn’t be that bad if the news was exciting. 

“So you know how our lease is up for renewal in a few months?”

Dan took it all back; he could see the writing on the walls. He knew where this was going. But maybe he could pretend for a few moments longer. “Yes?”

“Well, I was talking about it with Joann, and we both decided we wanted to take the next step in our relationship. Joann asked me to move in with her!” Natalie exclaimed, leaning over and pecking Joann’s cheek before looking over at Dan. She was beaming, absolutely ecstatic, like she hadn’t just dropped a ticking time bomb in Dan’s lap. 

Dan felt something akin to dread move down his spine. Oh no, oh no,  _ oh no.  _

“Congratulations,” Dan managed to choke out. 

Because, on one hand, he was excited that Natalie was moving forward in her life. He had been to Joann’s studio a handful of times and thought it was nice, even if she and Natalie shared the same horrid design taste. 

On the other hand, Dan thought as he felt his chest seize up, where was he going to live? He couldn’t afford this flat on his own, not with student loan payments on the horizon. He didn’t know enough people in New York he could ask to move in with. He was going to end up a murder victim of some guy off Craigslist, Dan thought in horror. Natalie must have seen some of the cogs turning in Dan’s head and got up and stood in front of him. 

“Dan, don’t worry, it’s all going to work out. I promise. If anything, you can sleep on our couch for a bit,” she said, sounding so sincere that Dan felt guilty for not being more excited for her. He looked over her shoulder and saw Joann nodding along. He felt his chest loosen. They weren’t kicking him out today, he still had a few months to find a place. 

“Yeah,” Dan said, “it’ll all work out.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'd to thank the phandomreversebang for putting this event on. It's was really fun and a great experience to stretch my brainpower. I may have stretched it a little too far so this fic will be updating once a week (hopefully) while I try to finish this. depression sure picked an inconvenient time to come kick my ass.


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